


Favors the Brave

by Observedchaos



Series: this heart's on fire [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Ableist Language, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst and Humor, Bad Decisions, Bad Puns, Be Careful What You Wish For, Brienne of Tarth has a Lannister problem, Drinking to Cope, Hangover, Humor, Jaime Lannister Has Issues, POV Tyrion Lannister, Puns & Word Play, Tyrion Lannister Ships It, Wish Fulfillment, Wishes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:21:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26368630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Observedchaos/pseuds/Observedchaos
Summary: Tyrion has a hangover. Jaime's had a makeover. Brienne is here to pick up the pieces.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: this heart's on fire [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1963765
Comments: 22
Kudos: 72





	Favors the Brave

**Author's Note:**

> Assuming that you read the summary, you've assumed the risk for the puns that follow.

===

“WHAT DID YOU DO???”

Tyrion lifted his head muzzily from his desk to see Fury incarnate hovering above him. 

Like every true sinner, a part of Tyrion had known that there would be a day of reckoning. What was a thrill without the threat of danger?

Though he had rather imagined his headsman resembling his father, not this...gargoyle having a bad hair day? Tyrion squinted with heroic effort but the haze of a proper hangover won. 

"TYRION, WAKE UP, DAMN IT!"

Hmm, the sound of the Fury seemed familiar. Was it an ex? Gods, he hoped he wasn't so cliche. That would be humiliating. Wasn't his type more backstabber than frontstabber? 

Who else, who else? He had always thought there was something off about Varys…

No, wait it was Brienne Tarth.

Tyrion patted her muscled arm in relief. Brienne was mighty but merciful. She would rescue him from the consequences of his ale-soaked misdeeds. 

Whatever they may be. 

Tyrion found he couldn't remember much at the moment. Only the most unshakeable pieces of identity remained: his name, the view straight up Father's flared nostrils when Tyrion delivered a perfect bon mot, and every curve of the '77 Playwench centerfold.

"WHAT DID YOU DO, TYRION?"

The question sank in that time. Sank in like an arrow right into his aching head. _Words._ He must find words to fend off Brienne's vicious volley. 

Words, his old friends. He had dedicated his life to sowing adjectives, japes and invectives across the land. Rude of them not to bear fruit in his time of need. 

Finally, a lone weed wound its way to the surface. 

"Offended the gods," he croaked.

There. Those were words that resembled a sentence. Take that, foul Fury! Of course, his tongue was so dry it may have sounded more like "often the goths." _In vino, visigoths_ , Tyrion chuckled to himself.

"There’s no time for this! What did you say to that woman??” 

Brienne was implacable. It had been amusing when Jaime was the one to tease her into anger. Like watching a gladiator poke at a saintly lion. To think, his brother *liked* her this way. Jaime was a braver idiot than Tyrion had given him credit for.

"Woman?"

"The one time I need you to talk!" Brienne groaned in despair. She might have clutched her tragic hair. Tyrion was too busy trying not to puke to be sure. Brienne regrouped and fetched him a glass of water. _Bliss_.

"Tyrion, focus. Last night. You went inside that tent and when you came out you said that you 'fixed it.' What did you fix? What did you do to Jaime???"

"Jaime? Tent?"

"That stupid red tent at the carnival you MADE me go to last night! THINK, TYRION!!!"

How had he never noticed that her voice was more forceful than a battering ram? _Merciful Mother_.

"Not so loud, woman, please."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Does your head hurt? BECAUSE I WILL TAKE IT OFF YOUR NECK IF YOU DON'T TELL ME WHAT YOU DID!"

Shock that she was capable of sarcasm jolted his brain into gear. A very rusty third gear.

“Brienne, if you are going to be dramatic, then I will have to be sensible and no one wants that.”

Brienne hauled him forward by his shirt with such force that Tyrion felt his wing tipped shoes take flight. Their disparate sizes meant her hand spread collar to cock. Fear shook him sober. 

"Yes, ok. I am trying to remember. I swear it." Tyrion scrambled for purchase and details that would jog his memory. "We went to a carnival? Why in the world would you and I go to a carnival?"

"You were moping! You said we had to go where we belong!" Brienne's fist clenched. Unfortunately, so did his windpipe.

Less unfortunately, gurgling her name fueled enough guilt to loosen her grip. 

Tyrion had never been so glad to have his feet on the ground. Rolling his shoulders in relief, he felt his freshly oxygenated mind rev with curiosity. He *did* like a puzzle.

A carnival. That might explain the calliope music merrying around his head.

"Walk me through last night, Brienne. From the beginning. If I have the big picture, maybe I can remember the details." 

She took a deep breath. Brienne slipped into the cadence of an officer delivering a shift report, something she and Jaime had surely done hundreds of times when they served together in Essos. Calm was Brienne’s specialty. Jaime often called her a robot, with mirth in his eyes. Outside of her hearing, Jaime had told him that her stoicism was the only reason he still had two fingers on his right hand. Tyrion didn’t have words for the look in Jaime’s eyes then. 

"You and I left work at the same time. Jaime was picking you up because you were sad after… Chai?"

"Shae." Tyrion's throat was dry again.

"After she dumped you. Jaime insisted that I come have a drink with you. We went to a bar you hated." 

Tyrion rubbed his head. "Were there...there were hubcaps on the wall. And they dyed the ale green."

"Yes! You told Jaime it was like playing a symphony with a kazoo.” Brienne smiled fondly. “He laughed so hard he…" 

Tyrion took a swig of water as his interrogator trailed off. She had a bad habit of sharing details that made her affections too apparent. It was hard to watch. 

"We had an appetizer but then Jaime got a call." She blinked too quickly as she stumbled on. Another tell. 

"From Cersei. She called and he came running." An all too familiar pit formed in Tyrion’s stomach.

Sympathy briefly returned to Brienne’s face. "You were upset. You ordered shots and...people were looking. Then you dragged me to the carnival. Mostly I tried to keep you from falling on your face." She paused in that odd way she had of considering someone else’s feelings. Whoever had taught her that? "You kept telling me that Jaime would always choose Cersei.” 

Truth was bitter. Tyrion had run out of wine to sweeten his tongue.

“He will, you know,” he snapped. “I’ve watched him do it a dozen times. You dragged him out of the pits of hell in Essos and not even you can save him from her. She ruined him the day she met him. She’s the main attraction and we’re the sideshow!”

Brienne flinched. Her left hand smoothed the skin of her right thumb in an absent gesture of anxiety. Tyrion cleared his throat in apology.

“He feels responsible for her somehow,” he said gently. “She trusted him when he needed someone to need him. We were never good enough for our father but he was exactly what Cersei wanted. Because he did everything she wanted. Terrible deeds did not feel terrible if he did them for her. Then he saw what she was but he couldn’t take back what he had done. Jaime thinks he doesn’t deserve...anything better.”

Seeing his sorrow reflected on her face was unbearable. Deflection, then.

“And how else did I charm you last night, my lady?”

“You cursed fate for making you beautiful but unloved. Then you literally flung yourself onto several women and screamed ‘once more unto the breach!’"

"Ah, yes. Well, I suppose I do get a bit theatrical when I’m drunk."

Brienne glared at him. "You disappeared when I was helping one of your victims up. I found you an hour later coming out of that red tent with the burning heart. "

 ** _A burning heart._** Tyrion’s pulse quickened. “Jaime. I wanted to help Jaime.” 

**_I tell desires, not fortunes._** An impossible memory. A woman’s eyes flashing red. Smoke stinging his eyes. A voice from the embers.... ** _We all must choose._**

“Please, Tyrion. You said you ‘fixed it.’ I thought you were just drunk but then this morning…”

Tyrion clutched Brienne for balance. He spoke without hearing the words. “I wished for Jaime to have a second chance.” 

A clang from the outer office jarred him from his stupor. He toppled over as Brienne rushed to the blinds. The slats crumpled like paper in her hand as she peered through the window of his office door. 

“He’s here.” She looked scared. Tyrion had never seen Brienne look scared before.

His assistant’s voice drifted in. “M-m-m-Mr. Lannister?”

The door opened. It was reckoning day, after all. 

From the floor, Tyrion saw the face of the man he had looked up to his whole life. A face that he hadn’t seen in over 20 years. 

Blond hair untouched by grey. Trouble-free eyes. 10 fingers.

**_Jaime was 16 again and his heart burned bright gold._ **

**Author's Note:**

> [forpeaches (bluecarrot)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluecarrot/pseuds/forpeaches) encouraged me. Let her know if that was a good decision.


End file.
